2nd Skin

I sleep on the floor curled up in a dark grey and orange sleeping bag, like an insect in its case, or an unripe seed in its pod. Actually, I probably look like a slug. Still, there’s nothing like pulling the hood up round your head and shutting out the intrusions of the world, only letting in the thoughts you want to linger over; shutting out the light and closing in the warmth. I lay on my side, then on my stomach with my right leg drawn up; the fabric feels cool and light against my bare skin, but it won’t be like that for long. I’ll begin to warm up quickly and then I’ll relish the drafts that come under the closed door, brushing over my exposed face. Tonight I’m listening to music, trying to lull myself to sleep more quickly than usual, but the rhythms continue to pulsate long into the silence and darkness and my imagination pulsates along with them. This second skin of mine keeps all my dreams safe and getting into it each night is like getting inside a box of delights…